


All Love's Loving Parts

by satonawall (forgetmequite)



Series: All the World's a Gift [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 17:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmequite/pseuds/satonawall
Summary: Five gifts Alec gave Magnus, five gifts Magnus gave Alec + one time they both gave each other something.





	All Love's Loving Parts

**Author's Note:**

> Me, four months ago: I'll just write this thing real quick, it'll be like 3K.  
> Arrested Development narrator: It would not 'be like 3K'.
> 
> The title is from Shakespeare's sonnet 31 (as are the quotations in the ninth segment). Also I played very fast and loose with the definition of a gift.

Magnus strolled down the Institute corridor, went past a pair of nameless shadowhunters without giving them the satisfaction of acknowledging their disdainful looks and strolled into the training room. He stopped at the doorway, taking in the sight of Alec pulling an arrow from his quiver and shooting it at the practice target, the whole sequence taking only what felt like fractions of seconds to complete before it began anew. They had reservations for dinner, but Magnus had for once managed to escape his mundane client earlier than scheduled; he had time to admire this.

It took Alec a few arrows to notice that he was no longer alone in the room. He first seemed to sense a presence, turning his head towards the doorway looking like he had a retort on his tongue already, but his subdued annoyance melted away immediately as his eyes landed on Magnus and the corners of his mouth turned up as quickly as his eyes lit up.

Trying to act like the change didn’t make his heart ache with every suddenly more rapid beat, Magnus leaned on the doorway.

“Good practice?”

Alec made a vague gesture as he started walking towards Magnus, and Magnus was only too happy to meet him halfway for a kiss hello.

As they pulled apart, Alec’s kiss-induced contentment shifted back to minor annoyance as he glanced down at the bow still dangling from his hand.

“Not really. This new bow isn’t as good as the one I used to have.”

Magnus had tried out archery once some centuries ago and decided that if he was going be removed from the action in a fight, he much preferred to have his long-distance attacks be with magic. Consequently he had never really bothered with the whole thing until a certain archer had caught his eye one night in Pandemonium, at which point Magnus’s interest had mostly centred on admiring how good a practiced and confident archer could look. But Alec had patiently (and maybe even with interest) listened to him when he’d got sidetracked last week and spent half an hour talking about the implications of subject-verb agreement in Chthonian. And besides, it wasn’t just about quid pro quo; Magnus _wanted_ to know about things that were important to Alec.

“What happened to the old one?”

Alec nodded towards a weapons rack by the wall. “I told you we went out on a mission last night. I used it to knock a guy out and it broke.”

Laughter bubbled out of Magnus before he could stop it. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t bows and arrows supposed to be _long-range_ weapons?”

Alec’s smile would have put the sun to shame, and Magnus barely noticed Alec had taken his hand and was leading him towards the weapons rack. “Tell that to the Circle member who attacked me close-range.”

They’d got to the rack and Alec settled his new and intact bow in its place. However, Magnus couldn’t miss his longing glance at the table where the broken bow was still laid out, presumably waiting for Alec to dispose of it.

It was a snap decision; Magnus was already pulling Alec towards the table before he’d even got to any conscious choice.

He didn’t know much beyond the surface about archery, but Magnus had seen the bow intact and knew well how it was supposed to look. Besides, it was quite neatly cracked, just slightly below the part the archer gripped while using it; it was not a complex thing to push the cracked edges against each other and fix the bow with a little magic.

Magnus offered the bow back to Alec. “Is this better?”

Alec looked up from Magnus’s hands to his face, just a little dazed in that now familiar way that made Magnus feel both very foolish and completely invincible at the same time.

“Magnus, that’s-“ Alec reached out to touch the bow as if he couldn’t believe his eyes and had to check that the break was really just gone. “Thank you.”

Alec’s eyes on him, combined with the reverent tone, felt like a dream Magnus never wanted to wake up from, and suddenly it was all too much. He was falling further and further, beyond what you could conventionally express with words, and old instincts told him to slow down the fall before he’d hit the ground too hard.

“It’s no matter,” he said, pretending to examine the bow. “Besides, isn’t this the bow that’s technically mine, anyway?”

Alec’s smile widened, the memory of that exchange that was probably more recent than it felt like obviously resurfacing. His hand on the bow shifted to cover Magnus’s. Magnus looked down at them, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. Maybe, someday, he’d get used to this.

“Yeah,” Alec said. “I think about that a lot, when I’m using it.”

Or then he’d never get used to it, get used to Alec with his blunt words that somehow affected Magnus deeper than the most well-crafted poetry (and Magnus would know, having inspired his fair share of it).

Maybe Alec truly would never cease to surprise him. Magnus would be more than glad to live with that.

 

\---

 

“When do you have to be in the Institute tomorrow?”

Alec settled more comfortably against Magnus’s side and reached for his hand, playing with one of Magnus’s rings. “Not that early, so like, nine? How so?”

“Just thinking.” Magnus turned his head, trying to catch Alec’s eye despite the awkward angle. “I have to go see Rafael at seven, so I might not be here when you wake up.”

Not that Alec hadn’t woken up to an empty bed at Magnus’s ever before, but... He’d still been at home, it was different. To Magnus, at least; Magnus had realised early on that contrary to possible expectations, Alec somehow managed to have a beautiful, unshakeable faith in their relationship. If he’d woken up alone to find Magnus gone without a word, he probably would have rolled out of bed, made himself a cup of coffee, got dressed and texted Magnus something encouraging on his way back to the Institute and thought nothing about it. But Magnus... Well, he’d woken up unexpectedly cold and alone enough times to be sure he never wanted to make anyone feel like that.

Alec smiled at him, content and very much present, and Magnus reminded himself that also contrary to possible expectations, he could count on this to last.

“That’s a shame. And Catarina sounded pretty excited about your warlocks-only all-night poker game, so I suppose I won’t get to fall asleep with you either.”

Magnus sighed. It wasn’t surprising, or unusual; both of them had a lot on their plate. It was just-

“And the day after tomorrow I have meetings all day, and after that you have to be in Idris for that debriefing, and-“

“And basically for next week, there’s pretty much no time we’ll get to spend together,” Alec finished for him.

Magnus took hold of the one of Alec’s hands that had been playing with his jewellery and ran his thumb over Alec’s knuckles, wishing for a second that he could just throw everything else to hell and just have this, all the time.

“There’s always the week after that,” he said as nonchalantly as he could.

“And tonight.” Alec pressed a kiss against Magnus’s bare shoulder.

 

“Thank you,” one of Luke’s werewolves said as Magnus handed her a small vial.

She paid and left, and Magnus took a moment to breathe in deeply and brace himself for a few more hours of the same before opening the door into the hall and saying, “Next!”

He was too old to be working this much, he said to himself as he listened to the ridiculous demands of a ridiculous mundane client and produced smoke just to make the very basic magic he was willing to offer seem more intimidating. He hadn’t had time for lunch, he’d slept at most three hours the previous night and as predicted, his schedule for the last few days had clashed with Alec’s in every conceivable way so that he had nothing but tackling his somewhat neglected work correspondence (and maybe a few annoyed texts from Alec about the conference he’d be stuck in) to look forwards to when he’d be done with his reception for the day. Which perhaps beat the previous evening, which had been packed with a very tense meeting in Houston, but was still not exactly Magnus’s idea of a good time.

He almost literally kicked the mundane out of his office when he was finished. “Next!”

His tone softened a little towards the end as he noticed the pair that was up next. Janae was a delightful kid all on her own, always chattering excitedly while playing with either her hair puffs or her little horns, but what really made Magnus’s heart leap was seeing Ms Brooks watch her daughter fondly as Janae chatted on about the butterfly she’d seen the day before or the ball of magic she’d managed to create that morning.

They did not really need anything specific from Magnus; he had just agreed with Ms Brooks that they’d stop by every once in a while to make sure that there was nothing off with the development of Janae’s magic. Which was why it immediately worried Magnus a little that Janae seemed particularly subdued that day, hiding behind her mother’s leg and avoiding Magnus’s eye. His worry was a little eased, however, by the obviously relaxed smile on Ms Brooks’s face as she looked down at her daughter.

“C’mon, Janae, no need to be shy. What did you promise the nice gentleman?”

Janae’s face peeked out from behind Ms Brook’s leg. She took a few very short steps, still not looking at Magnus, and extended her hand to push a small parcel in his direction.

“I promised I’d give Mr Bane this.”

Intrigued, Magnus took the parcel, and Janae immediately hid behind Ms Brooks’s legs, her now free hands coming up to her horns straight away.

The wrapping had been hastily done, and usually Magnus would have been wary of strange packages, but he recognised the handwriting on the label.

_Saw this and thought of you, A. L._

Magnus’s schooled his smile back to acceptable levels for polite mentoring and left the package unopened on his desk. Ms Brooks gave him a careful look.

“I hope that was alright,” she said. “I mean, you never know, even if it seemed harmless enough.”

“Quite alright,” Magnus hastened to reassure her. “I’m much obliged, I would have been sorry to miss that.”

Ms Brooks smiled. “Good. He made quite an impression on Janae.”

The last sentence was not really said to Magnus; Janae hid her face behind her mother’s leg again. Magnus suppressed a smile. If it wasn’t for Dot and Cat, he might have had to worry that the Head of the New York Institute was irresistible for all warlocks.

With a little coaxing, Janae got over her sudden shyness, and checking up on her gave Magnus a much needed reprieve, at least mentally. He followed that up with a more proper break after seeing Ms Brooks and Janae to the door, actually sitting down and picking up the parcel.

Five seconds later, he was holding a narrow embroidered bookmark. It was pretty, and had probably cost Alec all of two dollars. When Magnus saw it later on, he remembered it as the best part of that whole week.

 

\---

 

“You don’t have to do that.”

Alec didn’t stop piling the empty plates on top of each other. “You have that early meeting here tomorrow morning, you cannot just leave them lying around.”  
  
For a second, Magnus had to seek for his voice; it felt like the overwhelming fondness he felt for Alec had taken it away. “I’ve told you this previously, but I have magic for that.”

“Your magic already got us the food,” Alec said, placing a few used napkins precariously on top of the pile of dirty dishes he’d collected. “Doesn’t that make it my turn to do the dishes?”

He left for the kitchen with his pile of dishes like that was the end of discussion. And to be honest, Magnus wasn’t too inclined to win this particular argument. Sure, he could have thought of more pleasant ways to pass a quarter of an hour, but the fact that this was something Alec did, _for_ Magnus, was something Magnus hadn’t known he craved until he came back from checking in on an injured alpha in his guest room and found Alec cleaning blood off his couch.

So he simply sat back and enjoyed the moment until Alec came back to fetch the rest of the dishes. After that, it was all too tempting to stop by his drink cart on the way to the kitchen and lean on the doorway while sipping a martini and watching Alec put the leftovers in the fridge and start working on the dishes.

“You’re almost out of trash bags,” Alec said as he reached for the bottle of detergent. “I put in the last bag just now.”

Magnus let out a low, hopefully vague noise; he hadn’t really known either that he craved for Alec to be familiar with his kitchen until it had happened.

They chatted idly about whatever came to mind (Alec would have to remember to ask Izzy about updates to the Institute software; Magnus had a full day of meetings coming up and wanted to complain about a few of the likely tedious ones already in advance), until Alec moved to drying and followed up a lull in the conversation with a playful, “You know, we’d already be in bed if I wasn’t doing this alone.”

Magnus laughed and made a show of swirling the alcohol around in his glass. “I offered my help once, and yet you turned it down.”

“You didn’t offer to help, you said you could do it faster.” Alec grabbed another glass to dry and grinned at Magnus. “That’s not an offer, that’s a brag.”

“Whatever it is, you refused to take me up on it.”

Alec’s reply was weak; Magnus clearly wasn’t the only one who wasn’t too inclined to win an argument tonight. The night ended with their legs intertwined and Magnus’s hand clutching Alec’s on top of the covers, Alec’s steady breathing (no snores that night) lulling him towards sleep as well, and Magnus couldn’t help feeling that they’d both won everything that mattered.

 

The following evening, he texted Alec once he managed to shoo his final meeting of the day out the door, and took the lack of a reply to mean that Alec was busy on a mission. That was just as well, since Magnus would have to spend most of the evening drawing up documents for his clients and hopefully even getting in a few moments of working on a translation he’d promised a rather pushy seelie that he’d have ready the following week. It would have been nice to do that with Alec in the same room working on his own things, reading a book or just being there, but there was some enjoyment to be had from his work. He actually got so into it that he startled at the sound his phone made when Alec’s reply finally came.

_Sorry, unscheduled patrol. There in 30 mins?_

Magnus smiled at his phone, texted his agreement and got lost in looking up a particularly tricky traditional phrasing for a contract, only to realise half an hour had passed when he heard Alec come into the loft. He finished his sentence just in time to grin at Alec and respond to his kiss.

“Busy day?”

“It wouldn’t have been. Except apparently Jace and Clary are fighting again, and both wasted my time today begging to be reassigned to separate patrols. And no one was free to pair up with Jace for their slot, so...” Alec’s sigh completed his sentence better than words could have. “I’d ask if you had a busy day as well, but it obviously hasn’t ended yet.”

Magnus shrugged. “No one can write up a magical contract like I can.”

Alec smiled, presumably in agreement. “Have you eaten?”

Magnus hadn’t, and he’d also quite forgotten he hadn’t.

Alec’s simultaneously fond and exasperated face told him Alec had guessed as much. “I’ll order take-out. What would you like?”

Pushing away from his desk just a little, Magnus extended his leg so that he could reach out to place his foot against Alec’s ankle. “Ethiopian?”

There was a softness to Alec’s laugh that made Magnus once again thank whoever was responsible for making this his life. Then they both seemed to remember that Magnus actually had work to do, and Magnus settled back on his desk as Alec left for the door. “I’ll call the restaurant.”

Magnus had allowed himself one final distraction in watching Alec go, so he noticed as Alec came to a halt in the doorway. “Oh, and I got more trash bags while I was out.”

Magnus had not given that whole thing a second of his attention since the last time Alec had brought it up; just as well, considering it was no longer a problem, even a miniscule one he could literally solve by snapping his fingers. He still said thank you as Alec left to order their dinner. Magnus tried to refocus on his work, but his mind was no longer fascinated with contract law and instead persisted in coming back to the mental image of Alec putting dishes back exactly where they belonged in Magnus’s kitchen, Alec taking out the trash on his way down, Alec stopping by a corner store to get something they’d run out of.

Magnus’s linguistic interest decided to perk up and hang on to the last pronoun, and he sighed. It was obvious that their relationship was not exactly a light and breezy way to pass time for Alec, but it was still new, despite how much it had already went through. It was probably too soon to seriously think about living with Alec, of Alec living here, even though it sometimes felt like he already did.

Catarina was right, he thought. And Raphael, and literally every single one of his friends who’d told him he had become even sappier than he usually was.

And they’d all tell it to him again if they knew why Magnus couldn’t look at his kitchen trash can without smiling for the next month.

 

\---

 

“Hey.”

Magnus looked up from his cauldron; Alec had come in so quietly he’d barely noticed. “Hey.”

Alec nodded towards the cauldron. “Ready to go soon?”

“Almost.” He reached for the glass jar next to his spell book on the table. “I just have to add this one thing, and I’ll be all yours.”

“Take your time.” Alec sat down on a nearby chair. “What are you making?”

Magnus closed his spell book, not that Alec could have seen it from where he was sitting. “My famous peach cobbler for the New York warlock potluck.”

“Really?” Alec arched an eyebrow. “Then why you’re adding vampire hair to it? I remember you telling Simon, and this is a direct quote, that it made everything ‘unpleasant to swallow’.”

Magnus laughed; it was still sometimes disconcerting that Alec actually was interested enough in what he said that he could remember it afterwards.

“It’s for a client,” he said as he screwed the jar closed again, “and I’m just going to leave it to simmer.”

Alec stood up as Magnus went for his safe and deposited his spell book inside again.

“How does that work?” Alec asked, tilting his head towards the safe.

Magnus conjured up a small ball of magic, for the dramatic effect. “How do you think?”

“Magnus.” Alec’s look of exasperation was mostly undone by the arm he wrapped around Magnus’s waist as they started for the door. “ _Obviously_ it’s your magic. That’s not what I asked.”

Magnus vanished the ball of magic with a flick of his wrist. “It’s a lot of very powerful wards with just a little dash of violating object permanence.”

Alec mulled that over for a moment. “So your spell book’s not the only thing you keep in it?”

Magnus put his arm around Alec’s waist. “No.”

“What else?”

“Oh, this and that. Valuable things. The real Declaration of Independence, the Sphinx’s nose which I saved from destruction, poems written about me by literary giants, that sort of thing.”

Alec laughed. “And who would those giants be?”

Magnus made a show of counting with his free hand. “Let’s see. Kobayashi Issa, Omar Khayyam, of course, Shakespeare-“

“’Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day’?” Alec suggested, his smile lop-sided.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alexander, as if I could ever be captured in a cliché like that.”

“You have to show me that one someday,” Alec said. “Shakespeare’s one of my favourite authors.”

He was grinning; Magnus grinned back. “Or you could pen something yourself to add to my collection.”

Alec laughed, admitted to never having got the hang of poetic metre and asked something about the restaurant they were going to. Magnus happily let the thoughts of his real poem collection (largely consisting of lesser names and complete unknowns, but no less treasured for that) float away, answered Alec’s question and thought the topic finished.

 

“I don’t think you actually have Issa or Khayyam or Shakespeare in your safe,” Alec said some weeks later, stopping in the kitchen doorway. “I think most of the poetry you have is probably pretty poor quality.”

Magnus looked up from his paper. “And what’s motivating this vicious attack on my character so early in the morning?”

“Not on you.” Alec walked by the table, set down a paper and went for the coffee machine. “On people who’ve written poetry for you. Haven’t you ever trashtalked your competition?”

Magnus opened his mouth to tell a story, and then Alec’s words caught up with him. He looked at the sheet of paper Alec had placed on the table, then at Alec who was nonchalantly pouring himself a mug of coffee, then again at the paper.

“Alec?”

Alec took a sip of his coffee and took a seat on the other side of the table from Magnus, his foot brushing against Magnus’s under the table. Magnus couldn’t tell if Alec genuinely felt relaxed or if the ease was all a deliberate act. “You should read it, before you get your hopes up. It’s not exactly up there with the literary giants.”

Magnus had received poetry before, obviously; he had only bent the truth about who from. But it had been a while since it had come from someone he actually loved. He made a wish that Alec wouldn’t notice how his hands made the paper tremble with them.

_Magnus,_  
  
_I thought I was in love_  
_before I met you;_  
_I wasn’t._  
_Never had been._

_You’re my first, last and only,_  
_And being loved by you is_  
_the best thing_  
_that has ever happened to me._

_I’ll love you_  
_every day_  
_of_  
_your life._

“I told you I never got the hang of poetic metre,” Alec said next to him. Magnus hadn’t noticed he’d moved. “And you can blame the shortness of lines on Izzy, I asked her for advice after a few disastrous drafts and she told me to ‘be my blunt self, but with a lot of line breaks’.”

“Alexander,” Magnus was proud of himself for getting the words out; he felt overflowing with fondness, like if he wasn’t careful, it might just pour out of his mouth, incomprehensible, “stop putting down my new favourite poem.”

Alec stilled, his eyes seeking out Magnus’s. “You like it?”

Magnus hoped there were no visible tears forming in his eyes. “I’ll show you how much.”

He was half an hour late to his morning meeting, and it was worth every judgemental glance he got.

 

\---

 

“My apologies,” Magnus said as he slid down opposite Alec into the booth. “I couldn’t get Frances to stop once I’d allowed her to start, the meeting ran unpardonably late.”

Alec looked up from the menu. “It happens. You said you might be late.”

Magnus reached for a menu of his own, and for a moment they both read in silence.

“That’s a great coat,” Alec said.

Magnus smiled, glancing up briefly from the menu to meet Alec’s appreciative gaze. “Thank you, Alexander.”

“Is it new?”

“Not even when Marx pawned it to me in London.”

Alec gave him a look that told Magnus exactly how likely he thought that story. (He was right. This time.)

“Anyway,” Magnus nodded towards Alec’s coat, a smirk tugging at his lips, “I hope you don’t expect me to return the compliment. Is that demon ichor?”

Alec looked down at it, blinking. “Yes. Sorry, I came here straight from patrol.”

Magnus laughed as Alec pulled a tissue from his pocket and began wiping off the stain. “Shadowhunting takes on its toll on a wardrobe, I suppose.”

Alec shrugged and pushed the ichor-stained tissue back into his pocket. “Occupational hazard.”

“Have you thought about restocking? I’m always up for a nice day spent shopping.”

Alec laughed. “Have you been talking to Izzy? She’s said the same thing.”

Magnus had, in fact, talked to Isabelle just a few days ago, although their topic of choice had been a 19th-century article on demon anatomy that Magnus had come across and correctly assumed she’d be interested in. He wasn’t surprised, though. Among other things, he and Isabelle shared an active interest in dressing to impress.

“Great minds think alike, Alexander.”

Alec muttered something to the effect of, “And people I love have suddenly decided to bring this up” but his smile betrayed him and revealed he was not really much put off by the discussion. That impression was even strengthened when Alec set aside his menu, his choice obviously made, and said casually, “I’ve had other things in my mind. It’s not exactly a priority.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Ever even thought to lift it up on the list?”

“Not really.” Under the table, Alec’s foot nudged against Magnus’s. “Does that bother your aesthetic eye?”

Magnus pushed away the unexpected but definitely not unwelcome thought of eventually having a family album full of photos with Alec in full post-patrol get-up, occasional ichor and all. “No. Although I do sometimes toy with the idea of gifting myself the sight of you in a fancy shirt.”

He could see the competitive glint appear in Alec’s eye. “Really? You think you could find one I’d like?”

Magnus felt the mood shift towards playful competitiveness, and cherished it. “I never found a fashion challenge I couldn’t overcome.”

It hadn’t been a dare, but Magnus could pinpoint the exact moment in Alec’s eyes when it became one. “So it’s a challenge now. Do you think you’re up for it?”

Magnus set aside his menu and gave Alec his cockiest grin. “When am I ever not?”

 

Magnus approached the door to Alec’s office quietly; he could hear the faint echoes of conversation and didn’t want to barge in if Alec was having an important meeting. As he got closer, though, it became obvious that the other voices were simply Jace and Clary, and he saw no reason not to enter after a courteous knock on the door.

The way Alec’s expression cleared as he took in Magnus’s face told Magnus it had absolutely been the right call to make.

“I hope I am not too early,” he said, and the lack of remorse in his tone had to be obvious even to Jace.

“Your timing’s perfect.” Alec stood up from behind his desk. “We had just concluded our conversation.”

“But, Alec-“

Alec raised his hand as if that could halt Clary’s words. “Every single one of my seven Nos has been final. There won’t be an eighth, and no, Jace, that doesn’t mean you can just go ahead and do it.”

Magnus watched, with a mixture of amusement and second-hand exasperation, as Alec shooed the two of them out of his office.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he said once the door closed after them, turning to Magnus as his expression became softer. “I mean, I’m always happy to, but I’ve really been looking forwards to company that doesn’t try to get clearance for the most ridiculous suicide mission ever.”

Some other day, Magnus would have responded with frustrated tales about requests for the simplest things he’d had to endure from the pair, but today, he had a mission of his own and he was not going to be side-tracked.

“Are you also always happy to lose a dare?”

Alec stood up straighter, his whole body going alert, and it didn’t take long for his eyes to focus on the parcel under Magnus’s arm.

“It’s been a few weeks,” he said. “I thought you might have given up.”

Magnus smiled, the playfully competitive tone of the remark not missing its mark. “On you? Never.”

With the appropriate flair, he presented the parcel to Alec and then leaned back against the wall as Alec carefully pulled off the ribbon and removed the wrapping paper that Magnus had used just for that added layer of mystery. Eventually, though, Alec got his hands on the garment underneath.

It was a simple black collared shirt that couldn’t really boast of any decoration save for the slight shimmer on the fabric. But it was well-made and of a very pleasant soft material that Magnus had, not entirely selflessly, instantly thought would feel nice and soothing if you rested your face against it.

He didn’t concentrate too much on the shirt, though; his focus was on Alec’s face, on the slowly spreading happiness as Alec took in the shirt. Magnus didn’t need to ask to know if he’d managed to find something Alec liked. The competitive edge melted away from Alec’s smile, leaving behind a softer happiness. Just thinking that he’d been the cause of that brought a smile to Magnus’s face. He tried to hide it, though, just so he could casually ask, “So, did I successfully complete the dare?”

Alec laughed. “I don’t know, Izzy’s always saying that all my clothes have weird straps that have no use and I don’t see any here.”

Magnus stepped a little closer; he probably would have been crowding Alec if Alec wasn’t also leaning into his space. “I could always add some if you’d prefer.” He stretched his fingers and gathered up a small ball of magic just for show. “For some decades, I was the most fashionable tailor in Victorian London.”

Alec smirked. “Would this be the same decade that you got that coat during?”

It took a few seconds for Magnus to remember the whole conversation, but he liked to think it didn’t show up on his face. “That’s a story for another time.”

Alec set down the shirt on his desk and moved even closer to Magnus, his hand settling on Magnus’s waist, and all thoughts of coats and tailoring left Magnus’s mind, his thoughts focusing on more important things such as the brown of Alec’s eyes and how he could feel the beat of Alec’s heart when he put his hand on Alec’s chest.

“Thank you,” Alec said, his lips distractingly close. “For the shirt. I really like it.”

Magnus really wanted to kiss him right then, and he would have, if it wasn’t for- “So, will you admit that I won?”

Alec laughed, his grip on Magnus’s waist tightening. “You’re worse than Jace sometimes, you know that?”

And you love me for it. “That was a low blow.”

“It was, I’m sorry.” Alec assumed a mock serious tone. “You win. There are absolutely no boundaries to your good taste and impeccable fashion sense.”

Magnus knew his smile was smug when he leaned in for a kiss, and he was also fairly sure Alec wouldn’t rest until he’d found a way to even out the score, but both of those things only added to his good mood. Before Alec, he hadn’t really been open with his heart for over a century, but it was even longer that he’d gone without this, having a relationship that filled him with joy and that he could truly count on, genuinely enjoying every moment he got to spend with his lover, being in love with his best friend.

 

\---

 

“What now?”

Magnus raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe of Alec’s office. “We said eight, didn’t we?”

Alec looked up from his desk, and his expression cleared into a bright smile that soothed pretty much all of Magnus’s ruffled feathers.

“I didn’t realise it was you, sorry, I-“ Alec pushed his hand through his hair. “It’s been a long day here, I thought you were Adam.”

Magnus didn’t know who Adam was, but that didn’t matter; Adam clearly wasn’t worth knowing.

“Luckily for both of us, no.” He took a seat on the edge of Alec’s desk, bringing his hand to touch the side of Alec’s face, enjoying the sight of Alec leaning into the touch. “Want to talk about it?”

“Don’t know how that could help,” Alec said and tilted his head to press a kiss against Magnus’s palm. “It’s the same old stuff, with a side of surprise visit from Jace’s grandmother. Nothing you haven’t heard a hundred times.”

Magnus ran his thumb across Alec’s cheek. “It sounds like what you really need is to forget all of this for the evening.”

“Please,” Alec said. “You’re always a sight for sore eyes, but tonight particularly.”

Magnus hadn’t made any definite plans about where they would go. He had enough favourite small restaurants around the world that there would literally always be one available without a reservation, and he hadn’t been feeling any particular preference that day. But now, looking down at the exhaustion subtly but surely etched on Alec’s face, he suddenly knew exactly where he wanted to take his boyfriend.

“Shall we?” he said, offering Alec his hand.

Ten in the morning was not a prime dinner time, not in Tokyo and presumably not anywhere, and it wasn’t quite yet the time for a lunch menu either. But as Alec’s face clearly told Magnus as he took in the street and realised where they were, a proper dinner was not really what Alec needed the most.

“Perhaps this time we can find a dinner the feelings of which won’t add to your worries,” he said as he guided Alec into one of his favourite ramen shops.

Alec laughed at the memory. “I still think fatty tuna is an unfortunate name. In English, at least. What is it in Japanese?”

They kept up the light conversation as they ordered and ate their food, sitting so close that their knees kept brushing against each other’s under the table. Afterwards, they went on a leisurely stroll that probably seemed aimless, but was actually precisely calculated to end at a mall where they could grab something sweet for dessert and-

“Do you remember those photos we took on our first date here?” Alec asked as they passed a photo booth exactly where Magnus had been hoping there would be one.

Carefully nonchalant, Magnus nodded. “You were very adorable when you suggested we’d do that.”

Alec beamed at him. “Want to do it again?”

“I could be persuaded to,” Magnus said, but there was no way Alec couldn’t see through the phrasing for the act it was, and he was already walking towards the booth before the words were even out of his mouth.

“I think the first ones turned out better,” Alec said as they were sitting on a bench and investigating their achievements.

“It could be just your mind remembering them as better than they were,” Magnus pointed out.

Alec raised an eyebrow. “I literally was just looking at a few of them this afternoon, I hardly think so.”

And to prove his point, he pulled out his wallet and took out a strip of photos that Magnus recognised as part of the same series he himself stored in- At the moment, probably behind his jar of strawberry jam in the apothecary.

He pushed aside the mushy excitement that Alec also seemed to regularly go back to those memories and leaned in closer to look at the comparison.

“My make-up was better then,” he conceded. “But other than that, I don’t know what you mean. I always look fabulous, and if anything, you’ve gained _more_ charm.”

Alec pressed his thigh subtly against Magnus’s, a smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know about that, but I do feel happier. Just overall. It’s mostly because of you.”

Magnus didn’t make the effort to hide his smile, and moved closer to Alec so that their bodies were flush against each other from shoulder to knee.

They didn’t move for a time that was probably shorter than it felt. Eventually, though, Magnus felt he had savoured this particular happiness for long enough.

“How do you feel about after dinner drinks at the loft? I’ve got a new bottle of whiskey I’ve been meaning to open.”

“Sure.”

They walked out of the mall into a more quiet side street where no one wouldn’t accidentally stumble into the portal with them. Magnus was just about to create it when Alec reached out to hold his arm.

“Magnus.” His eyes were open and sweet and loving, and Magnus could look into them forever. “Thank you.”

He knew what Alec meant; this could have easily been a very different sort of date. But Alec had obviously needed to forget his work troubles for a few hours, and Magnus had provided that. And yet-

“No need to thank me, Alexander. It was my pleasure.”

Alec stepped closer, his hand sliding down Magnus’s arm until it could cover his hand.

“Then I hope you enjoyed tonight as much as I did.”

Magnus pulled his hand away, but his look at Alec was so warm it couldn’t be read as a rejection. He created the portal for them to walk through before offering his arm to Alec again.

“Haven’t I told you? I always enjoy myself when I’m with you.”

 

\---

 

“Are you okay?”

Magnus waved his hand dismissively. “Of course. Shall we proceed?”

Catarina didn’t look convinced, but she was momentarily distracted when Madzie spoke up from the corner of the room where she was carefully cradling a nest of blankets. “She’s colder now.”

Magnus tuned out Catarina’s answer, trying to focus on the ritual they were performing. It was a complex one, and he didn’t even know all the details, had trusted Catarina to know what she was doing. She was the master healer, after all. All he knew was that his oldest friend needed his help, and that he probably shouldn’t have used so much magic the day before just to show a few young and obnoxious warlocks that what they’d heard about the High Warlock of Brooklyn didn’t even come close to his true abilities. He wouldn’t have if Catarina had called earlier, but she couldn’t have known one of her friends would show up on her doorstep with a mostly unconscious warlock baby desperate for help.

That was what he was here for. To help save a life. Magnus took a deep breath while Catarina was still occupied with Madzie and focused his energies, pushing everything irrelevant, including his own weakened state, out of his mind.

It worked; when Catarina joined him and they began the ritual, Magnus could execute his part of it flawlessly, pouring everything in him into the healing magic.

He let his focus stray only when the walls of the room finally rang with the cries of a child come back from the brink of death, and he couldn’t even really bring himself to regret it when he felt his knees hit the floor and his mind starting to blur.

 

The first thing he registered was a stream of letters, repeated one by one with varying pauses in between.

Magnus forced his eyes open. “You’re getting really good at reading.”

Madzie looked up from her book, but instead of an answering smile, Magnus got a very serious, almost expressionless look that hadn’t made many appearances since Madzie had entered Catarina’s flat clutching tight onto Magnus’s hand.

“Were you almost dead too?”

Magnus tried to sit up, was met with a viciously pounding head and tried to fall back without looking like anything hurt.

“Sweetpea, you and your mum are not going to get rid of me that easily. I was just a little tired.”

Madzie’s expression did not change, but she didn’t ask any further questions, so Magnus changed the subject.

“How is our little patient?”

That got him a small smile. “Mum says she’ll be fine.”

Magnus smiled back. “That is excellent news.”

Madzie closed her book and fiddled with the scarf around her neck. “She has scales.”

“You two match, then.”

Madzie nodded, but didn’t say anything, just continued to sit in her chair and smile. Magnus wouldn’t dare to try and guess what thoughts were happening inside her head, but they were clearly happy ones.

At least that went for one of them, then, because he only had to shift his head a little for the pounding headache to remind him of its existence.

“You deserve that.”

Mindful of his head, Magnus only turned slowly to look at Catarina, leaning on the doorway.

“Is your bedside manner like that with everyone?”

Catarina walked closer, and Magnus could see the fading worry in her expression, sorry that he’d played a part in it being there at all. His friend had enough to occupy herself with at the moment as it was.

Catarina shook her head. “You get special treatment. Which you amply deserve for setting a bad example.”

Magnus looked to Madzie, pretending to seek for an ally, but Madzie did not come to his aid. That wasn’t surprising; he was sure that while he was out, Catarina had taken the opportunity to talk about how you shouldn’t overexert your magic like that.

“I see you two have ganged up on me.”

“You’ll live.” Catarina put her hand on Madzie’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go check on the baby, kiddo?”

Madzie slipped off her chair and Catarina took the newly freed space. Magnus waited until they could no longer hear Madzie’s footsteps. “I’m fine, no need to worry.”

Catarina raised an eyebrow. “You could have told me you were running low on magic. There are other warlocks in the city.”

There were. But she’d called him. And while Magnus had no problem saying no to things he didn’t want to do, he doubted there’d ever be a day when he could just casually pass up an opportunity to be there for Catarina when she needed support. A few centuries of friendship did that to a person.

“We completed the ritual, didn’t we?”

“We did.” Catarina’s look let him know she knew exactly what he was doing. “That baby’s going to be fine.”

Magnus nodded and made himself sit up. “I should probably head home before you make any more of a parental bad example of me.”

Catarina smiled. “Sure. You must be busy. Baths to take, martinis to drink.”

Magnus pretended he hadn’t heard the last part. “I’ll just say goodbye to Madzie and see myself out.”

“Uh, uh.” Weaker people would have crumbled at the sight of the look Catarina gave him. “You’re not portalling yourself, not in that state.”

Magnus gave her what he hoped was at least some kind of match for her look. “You’re not going to do it either, you must be exhausted as well.”

Their stare-down was long and ended with Magnus in the backseat of a taxi. He really was exhausted; it took him almost half the trip to even think about checking his phone.

There was the usual, more official stuff – he’d really have to wait to get his strength back before he’d deal with any of that beyond cancelling everything for that day, he could barely stand Brad Miller on his best days – and a few missed calls and a string of texts from Alec.

_6.37pm  
Finishing up paperwork for today, are you free tonight?_

_7.13pm  
If you don’t have time to check your phone I assume you’re not. Hope it’s good busy, not ‘kill me now or at least end this meeting’ busy._

_9.51pm  
I love Izzy but when will she stop talking about demon guts at dinner?_

_10.01pm  
Let me know you’re okay when you see this, I take it something unexpected came up?_

_1.23am  
I sleep so much better with you._

_1.27am  
Don’t get used to sleep without my snores, please._

_1.29am  
Wait, nevermind, I don’t snore._

_9.42am  
Catarina called and told me what happened. Call me when you feel up to it, okay? Love you._

Magnus let himself smile down at the messages longer than was probably dignified until he finally forced himself to look away to check the time. Past noon, which probably meant that Alec’s working day was in full swing, and Magnus didn’t really feel like calling just for it to go to voicemail because Alec was in a meeting or something.

_1.24pm  
I’m fine, heading home to rest now. Stop by when you have time? Love you too._

He pushed his phone back into his pocket, letting his hand linger there to trace the edges of the omamori and only letting it be when the taxi stopped in front of his building and he had to get his wallet out to pay.

Magnus made it up to the top floor without incident, but it had been a while since he’d been so glad to sink into his own armchair, or felt so unable to get up from it. He texted Catarina to let her know he’d made it home in one piece (she’d insisted), and leaned back, feeling like he should probably get up but not actually doing anything about it.

He should run himself a bath; that would make him feel better. On the way, he should probably take off his make-up because even without verifying, he knew it had to look terrible after having been slept in.

Right then, though, all of those tasks sounded far too daunting.

He didn’t know how long he just sat in the armchair. What finally forced him to contemplate his surroundings again was a series of knocks on the door. Magnus closed his eyes and decided that whatever it was, it didn’t need his attention right then.

That became a decision far more difficult to uphold when, after a few moments, he heard the door open, and far less important when he heard Alec’s voice.

“Magnus? Are you there? I know you didn’t answer the door but you did ask me to come so-“

Magnus made the effort to turn his head to face Alec as Alec rounded the corner and came into view. Or more accurately, his legs and lower torso came into view along with what looked like an underside view of a huge bouquet of roses, considering Magnus’s vantage point in the armchair.

By the time Alec reached him and crouched down so that they could actually see each other over the roses, Magnus had schooled his face into an expression of only moderate pleasant surprise.

“Hi,” Alec said as he offered Magnus the roses, “how are you?”

“Suddenly better.” He hit the airy, light tone he’d been going for. “I didn’t mean to ask you to drop everything to come here, you must have work to do.”

“Isabelle’s got it covered.” Alec made a gesture with his hand as if to encompass how easy his job was to put off, something that Magnus knew from bitter experience balancing two extremely busy schedules to be a blatant lie. He looked up at Magnus, his hand finding Magnus’s wrist, his look soft and honest and his tone quieter when he spoke. “I was worried about you, before Catarina called this morning. Glad to see you’re in one piece.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Magnus echoed his own words from months before, and Alec smiled, as Magnus had hoped he would.

“She told me to tell you you’re a foolish man with too much disregard for his own well-being.”

“Catarina has always thought too highly of me.”

Alec squeezed Magnus’s hand. “No such thing.”

Magnus closed his eyes and pretended to smell the roses, mostly just wanting to hide his face for a moment to get over the lump in his throat about how lucky he was to have found these people, in all the time and space that could have separated him from them, that cared about him so much.

“I called your go-to steakhouse,” Alec said once Magnus resurfaced, “and they should be delivering in about an hour. Eight ounces, medium rare, right?”

Magnus couldn’t help the wide smile. “You remembered.”

Alec grinned back at him. “Do you want to take a bath now?”

“I was just thinking about it when you arrived.” Magnus set the roses on the coffee table, not eager to waste his recovering magic on summoning a vase for them, and took Alec’s offered hand to help him get up. “Just promise you won’t try to make me a martini.”

“Hey,” Alec said, but the smile on his face undermined any protest his words might try to evoke, “I’m getting better at making cocktails.”

“Slowly, very slowly,” Magnus teased, and they laughed most of the way to the bathroom.

Once there, Alec set the bathtub tap running, and as he looked up, Magnus made a vague gesture towards his own face. “I should get this cleaned up first.”

Alec kissed his cheek and made his way to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Magnus smiled to himself and turned to the mirror, sighing at the state of his face. Under normal circumstances, he never slept in his make-up; usually, even after late nights out, he had the presence of mind to rid himself of it. As far as he could remember, this was the first time Alec had seen him like this as well. He’d see Magnus without make-up late at night or early in the morning, sure, but Magnus couldn’t remember a time he’d worn some and let it be less than immaculate. It probably would have felt significant, in a small but sweet way, if he hadn’t been far too exhausted to get sentimental about smudgy eyeliner.

By the time Alec returned, Magnus’s make-up was off, his bath had run and he’d settled comfortably in the tub.

“Anything else you need?” Alec asked.

Magnus gestured vaguely at the empty space in the tub. “I wouldn’t resist your company.”

Alec didn’t waste time pulling off his clothes, and in a minute he was in the tub with Magnus. Usually, Magnus ended up being the big spoon in their cuddles, but this time, he was more than happy to rest his head against Alec’s shoulder and splay his fingers on Alec’s chest, idly playing with the hair there as he simply let himself relax.

“If I’d known that being so drained of magic would get you here this fast in the middle of a workday, I’d have done it a lot sooner,” he said into the content silence.

Alec laughed. “And where in your busy schedule would _you_ find the time to pull that off?”

It was true, but Magnus was still far too overcome by the fact that Alec had obviously come as soon as Magnus had suggested he could, to hell with work.

“When do you need to be back at the Institute?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could.

“I have a meeting I cannot cancel tomorrow afternoon,” Alec said, “and I promised Izzy I’d call to check on things this evening. But I guess maybe tomorrow by noon, a bit later if I really push it.”

“I’m a little hurt you think it takes me that long to recover,” Magnus said, mostly because saying that was far better than, ‘I thought I’d only get to keep you for a couple of hours.’

Alec pressed a kiss into Magnus’s hair. “My intent was mostly to distract you from work so you don’t end up drained again immediately.”

Magnus turned his head so that Alec could fully appreciate his raised eyebrow. “I see I made a grave mistake when I introduced you to Catarina. You two weren’t supposed to plot against me like this.”

“From what I understood, Catarina’s probably curled up on her couch having a well-earned day off and watching cartoons with Madzie right now,” Alec said. “We’re just both spending quality time with our families. That’s hardly plotting.”

A witty comeback escaped Magnus, too focused on Alec’s choice of word. Family. He knew it meant a lot to Alec, but he hadn’t-

Hadn’t quite dared to hope that he would be included in Alec’s family so soon, to be honest.

God, he loved this man and his mouth with no filter whatsoever.

Alec’s mouth chased his when Magnus finally pulled away from the kiss, and Magnus didn’t even want to resist the urge to press another short kiss to Alec’s lips.

“I suppose I cannot complain when it gets me this,” he said, resting his forehead against Alec’s.

Alec moved closer, and they stayed like that until the water started to get cool. Half an hour later, Magnus was seated at the table Alec had set up while he’d been taking off his make-up, staring at the roses Alec had found a vase for and waiting as Alec paid for the steaks and brought them to the table.

“You look pensive,” Alec said as he shifted the food from the containers onto their plates.

“I was just thinking.” He fiddled with the sleeves of his bathrobe, the words heavy in his mouth. “I cannot remember the last time I shared this ritual with someone.”

Under the table, Alec’s unsocked foot found Magnus’s ankle. “I was really happy you asked me to come.”

Magnus picked up his fork, pressed his foot against Alec’s and tried for a smile even though the air felt just a little too brittle for it to work. “About what you said. About you and Catarina spending time with family. I-“

He didn’t really have anything to continue that sentence with, and the beginning hung awkwardly between them until Alec reached out his hand to take Magnus’s.

“I know you already have a family,” Alec said. “With Catarina, and Raphael, and even Simon and Madzie, what I said- It’s not a demand. But when I think about my family, it’s not just Izzy, and Jace, and Mum, and Max and Dad. It’s you, too. I know we haven’t really talked about future, but there’s not a future I want to imagine for myself that doesn’t include you.”

Magnus looked at Alec’s face, the earnest sincerity on it, and hoped he wouldn’t cry.

“You’re part of my family, too. And I want you to be, as long as-“ As long as you live. As long as you’ll have me. As long as- “When I think of the future, I choose to imagine ones that include you, too.”

Alec squeezed Magnus’s hand, his expression open, and they didn’t have to mention the immortal elephant in the room. They were both all in, for whatever time they would have together, and that was enough, that was monumental already, the conversation did not need any more weight.

The corners of Alec’s mouth curled up. “These futures you imagine, do I learn to make a decent martini in any of them?”

Magnus laughed, the air growing lighter between them, serious discussions settled for the time being. “Dare to dream, Alexander.”

 

\---

 

Magnus woke up with a smile on his face, the sun’s early light dancing in the bedroom and his hands full of curled-up Alec. He let himself be slow in gaining full consciousness, treasured the beauty of the morning and slipped out of bed, leaving Alec to sleep on with a gentle kiss on his shoulder. On his way to the kitchen he off-handedly magicked away the trail of discarded clothes that ran from the living room to the bedroom, his own into the closet and Alec’s into the drawers Magnus had cleared out for Alec’s use. Not that Alec’s stuff in the loft was really contained there; somehow there always seemed to be at least one extra pair of shoes on Magnus’s shoe rack, or a book Alec was reading on the coffee table, not to mention all the stuff that they’d bought together here and there because they liked how it looked that was probably technically Magnus’s but definitely felt like theirs.

It was nice. He could get used to this.

In fact, he wanted to get used to this.

Maybe today was the day, Magnus thought as he poured water over the tealeaves. He hadn’t been waiting for anything special, per se, but it was always nice to put in some special effort when a good thing happened, to mark it out from the rest of time. That was how you could live to be centuries old and still enjoy living.

Maybe half an hour later, his tea finished and a lot of Candy Crush lives lost, something banged shut in the bedroom and soon enough, Alec emerged from the bedroom, with his trousers and t-shirt on but, promisingly, without socks, which hopefully meant he wasn’t simply going to grab a cup of coffee and a piece of fruit and head off to the Institute to start on a busy day’s work. Magnus turned in his chair and smiled.

“Morning.”

Alec leaned down to return the sentiment in a kiss before heading over to get himself a coffee and settling down on the other side of the table.

“Have you been up for long?”

“Sometime. Are you in a hurry to get to work?”

“No, not for at least an hour. You?”

Magnus shook his head. “I should go over some treaties this morning before my lunch meeting, but I’ve got time.”

Alec looked over at the stove. “Would you like some pancakes?”

Magnus wasn’t a big breakfast person, but he usually tried to remember to eat at least something. Plus, it always brightened up his day to see Alec doing mundane things in the loft like he belonged there. Which he hopefully felt he did, too. “Sure.”

Alec got to work, and soon enough, Magnus had a stack of small pancakes in front of him, cooling down as he watched Alec place the last one on his own plate and come back to the table, his hand absent-mindedly caressing Magnus’s back along the way.

“This is nice,” Magnus said a few moments into the comfortable silence that ensued as they both dug into their food.

Alec looked up and smiled. “Yeah, it is. I wish we had time for this every morning.”

Magnus reached into his pocket (for the casually dramatic effect; the pocket was empty, he just summoned what he needed from a drawer into his hand) and pulled out a key, setting on the table with a clang and pushing it towards Alec.

“You spend most nights here rather than at the Institute anyway,” he said, “so maybe we could make it official?

Rays of sunlight were lighting up the room and dancing on the walls, but they paled in comparison to Alec’s slowly-widening smile.

Alec didn’t answer the question, not in words, but the smile said plenty.

The words that eventually did break the serene silence, when Alec finally said them, were a delightful non-sequitur.

“Does your door really just work with a key?”

Magnus laughed. “With this specific key. For you. It won’t be a catastrophe if Jace and Clary ever loot through your pockets.”

“Good to know,” Alec said as he took the key, fiddling with it even as he continued to look at Magnus. “And yes.”

“Yes what?”

Alec’s eyes sparkled; Magnus savoured their mutual happiness. “To making it official. I’ve thought about it a lot but I didn’t want to take over your space if you didn’t want to.”

Magnus thought about making a joke about Alec’s books and spare boots and their joint souvenirs, but Alec was leaning in for a kiss and all things considered, that was exactly how he wanted to commemorate the occasion. Not all special occasions had to be so grand.

 

\---

 

“I miss you.”

Magnus paced around in his comfortable room, coming to a halt in front of the wide window with a breath-taking view of the Himalayas. Beautiful as it was, after seeing it daily for two weeks straight he would gladly trade it for a brick wall if it meant he could be back home.

“I miss you, too.” He glanced quickly at his pocket watch. He was already running a little late. “Are you busy when I get back on Monday?”

“I won’t be.” Alec’s voice dripped of determination, and Magnus was quite sure his calendar for said Monday was currently far fuller than it would be when Monday actually rolled around. “Just let me know when you know what time you’ll be in New York.”

“I will.”

“Is your work going okay? You seemed a little concerned when you left.”

Magnus created a small ball of magic with his free hand and started half-heartedly playing with it, just something to focus on instead of how much he wanted to be closer to Alec.

“It’s a challenge,” he said, “but one I’m more than capable of conquering.”

“Of course you are.” Alec had that fond look in his eyes, Magnus knew without seeing it. Gosh, he wished he could see it. “I’ve yet to hear of a challenge you cannot overcome.”

There was a discrete knock on Magnus’s door. Magnus sighed. He was already being rude, he really shouldn’t make Sarita wait any longer.

“As much as I’d love for you to compliment me all day,” he said, “I should go.”

“Okay.” There was a faint sound of papers rustling on Alec’s end. “I have a packed day tomorrow, but I’ll text you.”

“Mmmmh, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Magnus smiled as he pushed his phone back into his pocket, allowed himself one long sigh and opened the door to meet his colleague.

 

After a long day of work, Sarita had a few more meetings, so she was unable to join him for dinner. Magnus walked to the nice restaurant she’d shown him, and was just in the middle of a delicious meal, wondering if Alec had remembered to put his phone on silent or if texting him would disturb his meetings, when someone stopped in front of his table.

“Magnus Bane?”

Magnus looked up from his food, relishing in the casual authority he knew he could radiate. “Who asks?”

The man opposite him was a warlock, no doubt, someone Magnus didn’t know. Not too old, then, in their relative terms, and probably not too powerful, either.

“My name is Sunil,” the man said. “I own a book shop. Sarita mentioned you were visiting her. I’m sorry to be so bold, but I think I have something that might interest you.”

Magnus tilted his head to give Sunil another look and then nodded towards the chair opposite him. “And what might that be?”

Sunil slipped his phone across the table to Magnus, open to an album of photos. The crest on the corner of the cover caught Magnus’s eye, and he almost scoffed out loud.

“Why do you suppose me interested in an old library book from Idris?”

Sunil smiled. “It is not the book itself that I wished to bring to your attention, I am sure you already own far worthier editions of Shakespeare’s _Sonnets_ , if you’re inclined to own any at all. However, I thought the hand-written annotations might pique your interest.”

Magnus looked at Sunil, and more out of a respect for his perseverance than out of any actual curiosity, picked up the phone and scrolled through a few pictures. As he got to a page of a seemingly random sonnet and glanced at some of the neatly written annotations, his mood changed and he didn’t even need to read further to know why a bookseller was personally pitching this item to him.

“Do you know who it belonged to?”

Sunil shook his head. “Considering the content, I assume the lack of any identifying marks was deliberate.”

“Likely so.” He finished his meal, the timing most convenient. “I would like to examine the book personally, if you would be so kind.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Sunil’s bookshop was surprisingly spacious and scarcity of actual books on the shelves strengthened Magnus’s impression that the majority of his business entailed selling unique items to the very specific people who would pay handsomely for them.

Shakespeare’s _Sonnets_ , as Sunil produced it from the backroom, was thoroughly ordinary work of shadowhunter printing and despite being from the early 19th century, would likely have been of little value on its own. To be fair, it was probably of little value to most book collectors even as it was. But, as Magnus thought as he browsed the pages and found [Sonnet 36](http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/36), his interest in the work was not really as a book collector.

_I know the scholars would tell me I am sorely mistaken_ , the neat handwriting underneath the poem itself read, _but this poem was written about loves like ours. I love him in such sort as, him being mine, mine is his good report. That is exactly how I feel. My love is hidden now but centuries ago, it was already immortalised here. It provides comfort, knowing that._

“How did this end in your hands?” Magnus asked.

Sunil ducked his head. “A friend of mine brought it to me, some decades ago. I decided not to ask how it came to her, but I got the impression she might have known the, uh, shall we say, author, personally.”

“Some decades ago?”

Magnus was not really surprised to see Sunil shrug his shoulders. “It caters to a very specific and hard-to-find audience. I would not have assumed you interested in it, two years ago.”

Magnus looked down at the book again (‘[When, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state](http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/29)-‘). Sunil was correct. Magnus was not interested in shadowhunter history, not even the parts that the Clave took care to remove from the official narrative. And besides, if he wanted evidence of shadowhunters that had to hide their love from their peers, he needed to look no further than his own memory.

But (‘For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, that then I scorn to change my state with kings’, followed by three underlined exclamation points), he was not about to buy this book for himself.

Normally, he enjoyed a nice moment spent bargaining, just for the fun of it, but Sunil had planned the sale for longer than an average shadowhunter lived; when he named his figure, Magnus had half a mind to offer a bit extra, just as a gesture of appreciation for his patience. He tucked the book under his arm and said his goodbyes.

“I wish Mr Lightwood a good reading experience,” Sunil said, and it went to show how much he’d impressed Magnus that Magnus didn’t even find it impertinent.

 

Monday came, and with it, finally the conclusion of their work.

“As always, pleasure working with you.”

Sarita laughed. “But, judging from your movements, a greater pleasure to hurry home.”

Magnus offered her a smile. “Through no fault of your hospitality, I assure you.”

Sarita tilted her head as if the new vantage point offered her a different view on Magnus. “You’ve always worn ‘in love’ well, Magnus, but happiness suits you even better.”

As he made his portal, Magnus found himself torn between wishing that warlocks were less gossip-prone and suppressing a smile.

 

Alec was in the loft when Magnus portalled himself there, he could feel the familiar presence in the kitchen. Magnus deposited his bag on the floor, snapped his fingers to magically wrap his present and came to a halt on the kitchen doorway.

“Honey, I’m home?”

Alec turned around and was in front of Magnus in a flash (bless those well-trained reflexes), his hands finding Magnus’s waist and his lips Magnus’s mouth. Magnus had forgotten how good it felt to have been missed.

When the kiss finally ended, Alec pulled away slightly as his eyes took in Magnus, like he was checking if Magnus still looked the same. No memory could truly capture how it felt like to have Alec look at him like that, either.

“Hi,” Alec said, his gaze meeting Magnus’s. “I missed you.”

“I couldn’t tell.” The corners of Alec’s eyes crinkled with amusement. He’d probably get wrinkles by the time he was middle-aged. Magnus couldn’t wait. “I missed you too.”

“There’s lasagne in the oven. I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry.”

Magnus wasn’t, not really, but he hadn’t had dinner with Alec in _days_ , and re-establishing that habit was definitely something he could get into.

“Maybe later,” he said. Alec’s eyes flashed and his gaze fell downwards, his hand on Magnus’s waist feeling more purposeful as well. That was not what Magnus had been thinking about, but he could definitely get into that, too.

He laughed into the new, hungrier kiss, but pulled away as he remembered the gift.

“I got you a present.”

“Is it you, here?” Alec pushed closer, his hand climbing up to cradle the side of Magnus’s face. “Because I don’t think you can top that.”

Looking in Alec’s eyes, it was impossible not to believe that Alec really thought that.

“Not quite.” Another snap of his fingers, and the present was in his hand, the one that had been grasping at Alec’s chest just moments before. “But I thought you’d like it anyway.”

Dutifully, Alec took it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Magnus said, and wasn’t even surprised when Alec set the present on the table to free his hands to hold Magnus again as he leaned in for another kiss.

“Not that I’m not into this,” he said, five minutes later, “but please open it, I want to see your face when you do.”

Alec bumped his nose against Magnus’s, almost laughing. “Should I be afraid?”

“Are you?”

Alec was still looking at him with that earnest, soft look that made Magnus want to never look away. “With you? Never.”

“Well, open your present then.”

Alec made a few half-hearted motions towards a joking protest, but he took the present and started to carefully work open the wrapping until he could deposit it on the table, leaving only the _Sonnets_ in his hands.

“Wow,” Alec said as he turned the book in his hands without opening it, reading the name on the spine and raising his head to look Magnus in the eye. “How did you know this is one of my favourites of Shakespeare’s works? Thank you, Magnus.”

“A lucky guess,” Magnus said, and thanked his lucky stars that gay shadowhunters apparently had a literary hive mind, even across centuries. “Open it.”

Alec frowned a little, but did as asked.

“Not just to the title page, Alec. To someplace that actually matters.”

Alec gave him a look, but flipped the pages, barely even looking at them (his eyes barely left Magnus, as if he was still getting used to the thought that Magnus wasn’t an ocean way), to [Sonnet 144](http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/144).

Literary hive mind, Magnus thought again as Alec swallowed loudly, obviously finally starting to take in the book. Magnus didn’t read with him ( _for he truly is the good angel, and the life I’m expected to embark on might as well be lived in hell for how I’ll feel_ or perhaps _I’ve conquered doubt, and my good angel shall never leave me_ victoriously scrawled under the two final lines), he simply looked at Alec’s face, cherishing every change of expression.

It took Alec just a few minutes to look up at Magnus again. “Is this-“

“Authentic, as far as I can tell,” Magnus said. “I should know, I’ve told you about that bookshop Gutenberg gave me in his will for teaching him everything he was credited with discovering.”

Alec rolled his eyes with the utmost fondness. Magnus maintained his look. The story was fake but Magnus’s knowledge of printing wasn’t. And neither was the book.

Alec looked down at the book as if he was expecting it to have vanished from his hands. “How old is this?”

“The year of printing is listed as 1821,” Magnus said. “As for the notes, I don’t know, palaeography always was tedious to me. The man who sold it to me has had it for several decades, though, and his friend apparently knew the first owner personally.”

“That’s- It must- I mean I always knew there must have been others, earlier too, but-“

Magnus watched as Alec kept turning the book around in his hands as it began to sink in what the book was tangible proof of. This was what he’d really wanted to give Alec when he bought it, and Alec’s face provided ample evidence that it was hoped for and needed.

That was, until Alec seemed to snap out of his diminishing disbelief and carefully set the book down on the table before focusing again completely on Magnus, standing close and putting his hand on Magnus’s arm.

“Thank you. You’re amazing and I’m so lucky to get to be with you.”

Magnus ducked his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to Alec’s particularly blunt brand of sweet talk. It didn’t really matter, to be honest; he was going to enjoy it however long he was allowed to either way.

Having recovered, he looked up and took on a lighter tone. “Don’t you want to start reading through it?”

“Later, yes, very much,” Alec said, his hand rising up to Magnus’s bicep and the other one settling again on Magnus’s waist. “But right now, I’d rather show you how much I appreciate everything that you are, if that’s okay.”

Magnus had subdued his desire earlier because he wanted to give Alec the book as quickly as possible, but he certainly was not going to prolong that state of affairs when Alec didn’t want to.

“That’s perfectly acceptable,” he said, and everything else he might have said got lost in the first of a number of kisses that followed.

 

\---

 

“Does politics ever make you contemplate homicide?”

 Magnus couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him. When he’d called Alec, that was not what he’d expected to hear first.

 “One diplomat to another, you know I cannot answer that honestly.”

On the other end of the line, Alec laughed. “Every time I come here, my respect for my mother increases. It’s been two days and I’m already climbing the walls with frustration. If I had to live in Idris full time, I too would get back to New York as often as I could.”

Magnus didn’t say (mostly because he knew Alec knew) that Maryse Lightwood’s increased presence in New York probably had less to do with her views on the stifling atmosphere in Idris and more to do with her slowly but steadily growing relationship with Luke. Alec’s sentiment rang clear nevertheless.

“I should hope so,” he said instead as he sandwiched the phone between his ear and his shoulder to have two hands to remove a cauldron from the fire. “Any particular highlights?”

There was a pause, and then Alec’s voice, with an odd tone to it. “I spent most of yesterday talking to Lydia Branwell. She seems to have found her place here alright.”

It was a highly suggestive statement, especially combined with the tone, and Magnus wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Alec’s relationship to Lydia (as it had been; as far as Magnus knew it had practically ceased to exist after Lydia left New York) was something he’d stopped thinking about pretty much the second Alec’s lips met his at the wedding that wasn’t. (How long a time ago was that even? Years? It felt like years, at least.) But then again, for some weeks Alec had planned to marry her; there were bound to be some complexities Magnus was not privy to. Even the thought of being jealous was patently absurd, but Magnus’s well-honed sense for gossip told him that there was something he’d love to hear from Alec over a few drinks when Alec would get back from his official visit.

“At least someone seems to enjoy Idris,” he said idly.

“Yeah,” Alec sounded like his mind was somewhere else, “maybe a little too much.”

Magnus’s gossip-senses were definitely tingling, but he could also think of a lot more pleasant topics to talk about with Alec than a former Clave envoy, especially with the limited time he had before his eleven am appointment would come knocking on his door.

“I’m glad to know you’re not planning on relocating anytime soon,” he said. “Idris was never my ideal date location.”

“That’s because you have good taste and common sense,” Alec retorted, and the conversation shifted into more romantic territory.

 

Alec returned to New York the following day. Much as he’d have liked to be part of the welcome committee, Magnus had an important afternoon meeting. Presumably Alec, too, had some post-trip work to be done at the Institute, but Magnus had not been at home for half an hour when Alec arrived, so he’d probably made quick work of it. And considering the way he kept shifting his weight from one foot to another and being simultaneously both unable to look Magnus in the eye and to look away from him, maybe that was indicative of something else besides being happy to be at home.

Magnus’s first thought, less charitable than he’d have liked, was that at least this time Alec’s first reaction to huge news from the Clave had been to seek Magnus out immediately. He banished it from his head and was just about to prompt Alec with something less doubting when Alec beat him to it.

“I have something for you.”

For the first time, Magnus noticed that Alec was carrying an old document case under his arm. Fearful clouds of new imagined betrayals retreated a little further back in his mind’s horizon; Clave’s new information was mostly digital.

“A gift? Oh, Alexander, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not really a gift,” Alec said, handing over the case. “But it’s yours, at any rate.”

Magnus cocked his eyebrow at Alec and was just about to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat as he caught just a glimpse of the contents of the document case.

“Are these-“

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead making his way to the dining table and spreading the papers on it.

They were. Magnus sat down without properly realising he was doing it, which was probably preferable to his legs giving out under him. That probably wouldn’t have happened, but it sure felt like it would.

“I recognised your handwriting,” Alec said. He’d followed Magnus to the table, and was now crouching down next to Magnus’s chair. “Thought you’d like them back.”

Magnus probably should have said something, but his mouth was still refusing to work. Instead, his mind kept focusing on the papers in front of him.

He knew what was on them, of course; they were, or at any rate had been, his. And he made portals every day, it wasn’t like he’d forgotten the magical theory behind them. But he’d made the mistake of borrowing a good chunk of the notes he’d made while working it out to a shadowhunter and Henry Branwell had made the mistake of suddenly dying before returning them, and after some decades Magnus had resigned himself to never seeing them again.

Speaking of, his voice finally consented to getting out one word. “How?”

“I told you I visited Lydia Branwell,” Alec said. “Apparently they’ve been in the family for a long time.”

Magnus remembered Alec’s comment about enjoying Idris a little too much and guessed the rest. He almost asked Alec what Alec had had to give in exchange to get them back, but really, that was not what he wanted to focus on. He’d got back what was rightfully his, and he was in love with a man thoughtful enough to make it so; the rest could go to hell for all he cared.

Alec seemed to feel the same. “It must have taken you a lot of work,” he said, nodding towards the notes. “Inventing portals.”

Magnus welcomed the chance to feign indignation. “’A lot of work’, really, Alexander? Centuries of idle thoughts, decades of concentrated effort and a solid year with barely no sleep is what it took. I worked on it longer than you’ve been alive.”

Alec looked up at him with that look that sometimes made Magnus forget his own name, forget everything but what it felt like to be loved. “I figured. You’re amazing, Magnus.”

Magnus looked down, evading Alec’s eye. He might have got used to hearing Alec say things like that and mean them, but sometimes it still made him feel oddly vulnerable. He said as lightly as he could, “Anything to be able to take my boyfriend to Tokyo on a moment’s notice.”

Alec’s eyes sparkled. It might have just been the reflection of the light, but Magnus didn’t think so. “Your boyfriend appreciates it. And you.”

Magnus reached out to cup the side of Alec’s face, Alec instinctively leaning in to it. His eyes closed before Magnus’s lips reached his, but his hand found Magnus’s knee and squeezed gently.

“Can you still read this?” Alec asked a good few moments later once they’d finally got back to looking at the documents.

“Of course,” Magnus said. “Though it doesn’t surprise me that _you_ can’t, considering that that particular sheet is written in a type of shorthand I developed myself based on three different languages.”

Alec let out a laugh. “You would.”

“Four, probably, now that I think of it, I think I threw in a little bit of Farsi as well.”

He looked up from the sheet of paper to find Alec looking at him with indescribable tenderness in his eyes. “Every time I think I know you, I find out there’s more.”

Magnus set down the paper he’d been holding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Alec smiled. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”

Somewhere along the way, Magnus had become secure in this, no longer mentally bracing himself for rejection or abandonment every time Alec pulled away at a random moment or said something that _might_ be followed up by something quietly devastating. He smiled back, moved his chair so that it was even closer to Alec’s, leaned in for another kiss and simply enjoyed the moment together.

He could do this forever. If he could, he would.

 

\---

 

Even from the bedroom, Magnus could hear the front door lock click. He could only hope that it didn’t mean Alec could also hear his frantic attempt to cram the contents of a magical chest he’d emptied onto the bed back where they belonged.

“Magnus? I’m home!”

“In here,” he responded airily, shoving the last of the bags into the chest and slipping one small box into his pocket as he slammed the chest closed.

Alec appeared at the door, making a beeline straight to Magnus for a kiss hello. He was cold from the evening air, had probably walked home, and Magnus couldn’t be happier to have him pressed against himself. The box weighted heavy in his pocket, and Magnus had no shame chasing Alec’s lips when he momentarily pulled away.

“I missed you, too,” Alec said with laughter in his voice when they finally separated again.

“I had a lot of difficult clients today,” Magnus said. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t an actual explanation, either.

“Not the mundane with the memory obsession again?”

The shudder wasn’t an affectation on Magnus’s part. “Among others. Can you believe, now he’s asking me to-“

And he led Alec into the living room, swapping stories, chatting a bit of Shadowworld politics when it came up, ordering take-out when they got hungry. Just like so many nights they’d spent together before, just like so many nights they’d hopefully spend exactly the same way in the future. Magnus resisted the urge to check that the box was still in his pocket. He hadn’t even planned anything for it yet, he’d just wanted to find it to check if he’d need to have the ring cleaned or resized. That, however, did nothing to stop the sudden urge to offer it to Alec right then. It wasn’t like Alec was the type to want extravagant surroundings, anyway; Magnus was reasonably certain he could propose without any preparation with a piece of string for a ring while watching Alec do the dishes, or dirty and bloodied after a long battle, and get a yes. It was a nice feeling, knowing he was loved for everything he was, but it definitely wasn’t how he wanted the only marriage of his long life to be officially agreed upon. Call him dramatic, but when he’d tell the story years from now with Alec being the most captivated person in the audience despite having heard the story a million times, he wanted it to be a good one. Nothing too show-off-y, since it was fundamentally about just the two of them, just something a little more extraordinary than-

“Magnus?”

Magnus blinked, returning to the present. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Alec was giving him that look, the one that Magnus might have been used to by now but which never failed to make his heart miss a beat. The one that blatantly announced to anyone looking at him that Alec was looking at the love of his life and didn’t intend to ever look the same way at anyone else.

“For the past few moments, nothing,” Alec said. “You zoned off so I just enjoyed seeing your smile. Good thoughts?”

Magnus smiled wider. “You could say that.”

Alec continued to just watch him for a moment, and then glanced down before looking up again, more resolute this time.

“I love you.”

Magnus reached out to take Alec’s hand. They said it often, obviously, but this didn’t sound like a casual one.

“I love you, too.”  
  
Alec smiled and turned his hand in Magnus’s so he was holding Magnus’s hand as well. “I know, and that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Magnus opened his mouth to make a joke out of it, but something in Alec’s expression made him close it again.

“You know I grew up thinking I’d never have this,” Alec said, his gaze falling on their joint hands, “and it was only meeting you that changed that. And now I can’t imagine my life without you. This. Us.” His other hand joined their hands so that he was now cradling Magnus’s hand in between his own. “And I don’t want to. I know I can’t really promise you, you know, forever, not the way I want to, but I can promise you my life. If you want it.”

Magnus felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked from the room, leaving only a weightless vacuum. Except when he breathed in sharply, his lungs filled with air, and when he spoke, his shaky voice reached his ears.

“Are you-“

Alec ducked his head in a bashful gesture that did nothing to hide his smile. “Sorry, I do have a ring, it’s inside my spare boots, I wasn’t- I’ve been thinking about this a lot, but I wasn’t really planning on doing this tonight until you just-“

Alec’s moment of discomposure brought Magnus’s usual certainty back, and suddenly he knew exactly what to do, reaching his free hand into his pocket.

“Well,” he said as Alec’s eyes widened at the sight of the ring box, “after those words I guess it’s only fair that I contribute this. I don’t want to imagine my life without you either.”

“Magnus...” Alec had always had the ability to turn Magnus’s insides into mush with just one look, and Magnus hadn’t really thought that look could become more adoring, but somehow Alec managed to yet again surprise him. “Marry me. Or, yes. Which one of us is actually proposing?”

He said it as a genuine question, but it inadvertently also sounded like a competition. Magnus could feel the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. “I’m the only one with a ring to offer, so obviously me.”

“Uh.” Alec’s eyes flashed with the spirit of their usual playful competition, but his hands stayed gentle holding Magnus’s. “I don’t remember you giving any heartfelt speeches recently, did I just zone out for that?”

Magnus nearly kissed him quiet, but in the end delivering a comeback won out. “If you want one, Alexander, I can arrange that. Did you know that Aristotle said I have a natural gift for pathos?”

“I didn’t know Aristotle could see the future before his death.” Alec looked at Magnus’s lips and then dragged his gaze upwards. “I can go fetch a ring faster than you can deliver an actual speech.”

“Maybe.” Magnus could feel himself leaning towards Alec. He’d claim it was a planned strategy if anyone asked. “But then you’d have to move off this sofa.”

“True,” Alec said, and maybe he’d have countered with something, if Magnus hadn’t closed the distance between their lips right then.

“Did you really plan on proposing tonight?” Alec asked some half an hour later, his hand idly tracing patterns against Magnus’s naked back. “I didn’t mean to ruin it if you had grand plans.”

Magnus raised his head so that Alec could see his eyes. With a little bit of imagination, he could see his cat eyes reflected back on Alec’s pupils. “Trust me, you didn’t ruin _anything_.”

“Are you sure? I know how much you love planning events.”

Care was a very attractive look on Alec, and Magnus took the opportunity to steal a kiss before answering. “I was just taking out the ring from storage. You got home before I managed to hide it somewhere more easily accessible.”

Alec’s sweet smile turned teasing. “So does that mean it was definitely me who proposed?”

“How could that be?” Magnus settled more comfortably against Alec’s shirtless chest. “You still haven’t even produced a ring.”

“Does that mean you want me to move and go get it?”

“No,” Magnus said. He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Alec’s spare boots were on the floor next to them. “You should stay exactly where you are and use those long arms of yours.”

Alec laughed, pressed a quick kiss against Magnus’s lips and reached into one of the shoes, pulling out a small plastic bag (Magnus couldn’t say he wasn’t a little relieved; he did love all of Alec, but some parts, like the smell of sweat in his work shoes, Magnus preferred to love from a distance), and one-handedly wrangled the bag off to reveal a small ornamental box.

“I’m not sure how it’s going to fit your style,” Alec said as he opened the box and presented Magnus with the ring, “but I- It’s a family tradition, and as you once said, I’m a traditional guy.”

The ring certainly had an older look; elaborate patterns forming the ring itself and collecting to support a round medal bearing the Lightwood coat of arms. It was, to be honest, somewhat ugly, and purely logically did not warrant the wobbliness in Magnus’s voice when he finally managed to get out, “You want me to have this?”

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” Alec said, misinterpreting the question. “And you can choose the wedding rings. I just- It’s a tradition, so in my mind that ring belongs to you, and I wanted to give it to you whether you’ll wear it or not.”

He looked like he might ramble on further, but Magnus silenced any further apologies by kissing Alec. He wasn’t quite sure how to put his explanation in words, but he certainly didn’t want to let Alec continue to work under the impression that his ring of choice was a let-down. It was doubtful if his kisses could communicate ideas such as ‘You’re my favourite romantic poet’ and ‘I never want to cease being surprised by you’, but he wouldn’t be faulted for lack of trying. It wasn’t that he’d thought Alec didn’t think that their relationship actually counted the same way the relationships of Lightwoods of days passed counted, or that Magnus was somehow unfit to receive a family heirloom. If he had, they wouldn’t be here. But knowing that intellectually was apparently still different from having the very tangible evidence dig into his stomach where Alec’s hand holding the ring box had got trapped between their bodies.

“Thank you,” he said when they finally pulled apart.

Dazed, Alec smiled back at him, looking like maybe Magnus had kissed all words out of his mouth. Magnus flexed his fingers, singling out the bare left ring finger, trying to imagine the ring – Alec’s ring, his engagement ring – on it. Alec was right; stylistically, it was not what Magnus would have gone for. But it was silver, and it would go well enough with his other jewellery. ‘Well enough’ was more than a little short of Magnus’s stylistic standard, but then again, most days most of his accessories did not make his heart beat faster and his eyes sting with tears of disbelieving happiness.

“Can I put it on you?”

Alec seemed to have recovered his faculties, and his gaze was alternating between Magnus’s face and the finger in question.

Magnus made a show of offering his hand. “By all means, Mr Lightwood.”

“Mr Lightwood-Bane-to-be,” Alec said as he took out the ring, and yes, those were definitely tears rolling down Magnus’s cheeks.

The ring slipped onto Magnus’s finger, but Alec’s hand didn’t let go, continuing to hold onto Magnus’s hand. Magnus didn’t want him to let go, either, but...

“My turn,” he said, reaching for the other ring box.

There was something soldier-like about Alec’s stillness as Magnus put the ring on his finger, but his blinding smile left no doubt about how he felt about it.

The ring might not have been exactly Alec’s style (at least not yet; Alec’s style had been gradually changing), but Alec had played with and complimented enough of Magnus’s jewellery that Magnus could feel reasonably sure Alec would like it, anyway. It was, in fact, an older favourite of Magnus’s that he’d stopped wearing a good few decades ago but had kept stored for sentimental reasons anyway. As such, it was old-fashioned in a way that was not currently in style, but in a way that suited Alec, and besides, it was slim enough not to get in Alec’s way in a fight or whenever he wore gloves. It did have Magnus’s initials emblazoned on the surface in quite an obvious way, but something told Magnus Alec wouldn’t exactly mind that.

“I hope it’s acceptable,” he teased.

“It’s very you,” Alec said, smiling. “I love it.”

Magnus was definitely smiling as he pressed his lips against Alec’s. Just as well; what better time to feel this happy. The rings they’d exchanged were not the first and likely not the last gifts they’d got one another, but, raising his hand to cup Alec’s cheek and feeling Alec lean into it so contently, Magnus couldn’t help feeling like the greatest gift of all was just getting to be together for all the time they would have.


End file.
